


Sir, Yes, Sir

by hogwartswitch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Military Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:52:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartswitch/pseuds/hogwartswitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock deduced John's military kink ages ago. Now he's decided to experiment with it by ordering a military uniform for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sir, Yes, Sir

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsDeGoey](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=MrsDeGoey).



> Inspired by [theglitterypotato's](http://theglitterypotato.tumblr.com) fantastic "John has a military kink" headcanon, found [here](http://cleverwholigan.tumblr.com/post/124253132635/theglitterypotato-every-doctor-loves-a).

Really, it was all so terribly easy to figure out. Sherlock deduced it ages ago. Not that John hid it very well; not the way he stiffened any time he spotted someone in military dress, his eyes drifting down of their own accord. Or the intensity of their fucking any time Sherlock suffered through one of the endless war movies John liked to watch.

Sherlock didn't pretend his plan was altruistic. After all, he had his own military kink and the idea of exploring that with John left him hard and wanting. Finding a source for military fatigues proved easier than he'd thought - a simple visit to a British military surplus website and Sherlock now owned a full desert combat uniform, complete with an impressive pair of boots.

He waited until John went out to do the shopping before pulling the package of clothing from under their bed and donning the uniform and boots. The hair was a little harder - Sherlock broke several combs trying to tame his wild curls before finally slicking it back with water and positioning the khaki beret atop his head. He glanced in the mirror, liking the way he looked in camouflage. Sherlock offered his reflection a mock salute and then turned and marched into the living room. He arranged his chair to face the door leading into 221B and settled himself to wait for John.

***

At the rattling of the door, Sherlock rose and stood at attention. John backed in, clutching a bag of groceries in each hand and trying to close the door with his foot.

"You wouldn't believe the crowds at the store today," John huffed, finally getting the door closed and turning around.

Both bags hit the floor with a clunk and an apple rolled across to rest at Sherlock's feet.

"Sh-sherlock...what....?" John's mouth hung open.

Sherlock allowed a smile to twitch at his lips as he bent to pick up the apple and take a bite of it before setting it on one of the side tables.

"Captain Watson," He purred, taking a step closer. "Do you require assistance?"

A nerve ticked at John's jaw and his eyes turned stormy blue. His back straightened and he stood to attention. He whipped his arm up and snapped a salute at Sherlock.

"Sir," John's voice cracked at this first syllable. "Yes, Sir!"

Sherlock's smile widened and he drew close to John. He schooled his features into a stern expression and looked him up and down before reaching out to loop a finger under John's trouser waistband. He gave it a firm yank and glanced down, catching a glimpse of John's red pants.

"Are those regulation, soldier?" Sherlock asked, his voice low and growly.

John's chin dipped as he swallowed audibly. "N-no. They aren't. Sir."

Sherlock tutted and turned to walk back to his chair. He settled back against the leather and pinned John with his eyes. "You'd best take them off, then, hadn't you?"

Groceries forgotten, John's fingers went to his zipper as he quickly divested himself of his trousers, pants, and jumper. He kicked off his shoes and socks and stood before Sherlock, his cock hardening.

"Put these on." Sherlock tossed the silver dog tags he'd found at the back of John's dresser.

John caught the proffered tags in mid-air and smiled crookedly at Sherlock before slipping them over his head. They rested in the thatch of golden hair that covered his chest, glinting as they caught the light.

Sherlock took a moment to appraise John, roving his eyes from head to toe. "I see you're standing to attention, that's good."

John glanced down at his erection and shot a dirty grin at Sherlock. "Yes, sir, I am."

"But those non-regulation clothes... I think those require punishment." Sherlock steepled his hands beneath his chin and looked at John with half-lidded eyes. "Drop and give me twenty, soldier."

"S-sir?" John looked skeptical.

"You heard me. Do you want to make it forty?"

John let out a bark of laughter and stretched himself across the floor, his muscles flexing as he began doing push-ups.

"Count them." Sherlock ordered.

John counted each one as Sherlock admired the way his wiry muscles flexed with each rise and fall. John's cock bounced with each push-up, grazing the floor and wringing a small gasp from John's throat. Sherlock wriggled his hips as his own erection tightened his trousers. He reached down and popped the button, dipping his hand within and pulling out his cock. He stroked with each of John's counts, humming low in his throat and never taking his eyes off John's naked body.

After twenty push-ups, John crouched on the floor and looked up at Sherlock, questioning.

"You know what I want, soldier?"

John licked his lips and grinned, nodding. Sherlock spread his legs wider and beckoned John over.

"Get to work , Captain."

John stood up and strode to Sherlock's chair, straddling his hips and pressing his mouth hungrily to Sherlock's. His hands fumbled at Sherlock's buttons before sliding inside his shirt. John's fingers found the nubs of Sherlock's nipples and he gave them a pinch as he sucked at Sherlock's bottom lip, nibbling at the flesh lightly with his teeth.

Sherlock groaned, his hands resting on John's hips. John's skin was hot to the touch, setting Sherlock further aflame. He arched his back towards John, trailing his hand up John's chest to pull him closer by the chain of his dog tags.

John broke the kiss and laughed. "Not so fast. I'm in charge now."

Sherlock whimpered low in his throat as John mouthed kisses along his jaw as he finished unbuttoning Sherlock's combat shirt and spreading it wide. John rubbed his hands over Sherlock's shoulders and down his arms, pushing the shirt off him as he kissed along Sherlock's collarbone.

"C-captain...." Sherlock breathed, his head lolling back.

"That's right," John growled, his mouth at Sherlock's ear. He nipped at the lobe lightly and undulated his hips towards Sherlock so their cocks rubbed up against each other.

"Aaah!" Sherlock's eyes flew open and he dug his fingers into John's hips at the contact.

John stilled, sitting back to look at Sherlock spread open to him, his chest bare, his flushed cock bobbing invitingly. Sherlock's lips were flushed and shining from John's kisses and he'd never looked so enticing to John as he did in that moment.

John reached out and snatched the beret from Sherlock's head, setting it on his own at a jaunty angle. He grinned saucily at Sherlock and slid off him, kneeling on the floor. "You're overdressed, sir."

Sherlock's laugh was hoarse and high-pitched. "It would seem I am."

John's fingers grasped the edge of Sherlock's trousers and pants and tugged, sliding them off Sherlock's hips and down his legs. Sherlock was now as naked as John, but for the combat boots he still wore. John arched an eyebrow towards them and decided they would stay on. John wrapped his hand around Sherlock's erection, his other hand slipping under Sherlock to massage his balls as he bent his head and huffed out a soft breath over the head of Sherlock's cock.

"Christ!" Sherlock said, his voice high and strained.

John grinned and blew another breath before licking the head, his tongue probing at the slit. He slipped his mouth over the head of Sherlock's cock, swirling his tongue around the shaft. Sherlock's fingers dug into the leather of his chair.

"Your mouth," Sherlock gasped. "Ah...ah! It's... it's...."

Sherlock became incoherent as John swallowed as much of his length as he could. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking as he moved his head up and down over Sherlock's erection. John let go of Sherlock's balls and moved his hand further back, pressing a finger at Sherlock's entrance and pushing past the ring of muscle.

"God, oh...god...." Sherlock's eyelids fluttered.

John pressed kisses up the length of Sherlock's shaft, his lips making smacking noises to accompany Sherlock's groans and whimpers. He worked his finger inside Sherlock, the muscles relaxing around it. John pressed his face to the sensitive skin at the juncture of Sherlock's thigh and licked a line of saliva, blowing on it to raise goose pimples on Sherlock's skin.

"What are my orders, sir?" John whispered, withdrawing his finger from inside Sherlock and grinning wickedly up at him.

Sherlock stared at the ceiling, momentarily speechless. He blinked a few times, vision clearing. "Ah... b-bedroom. There's lube by the bedside table."

John stood, reaching out to help Sherlock from the chair. He cocked an eyebrow at Sherlock, the tip of his tongue visible from between his teeth. "Awfully sure this experiment was going to work, weren't you?"

"I'm never wrong." Sherlock smiled lazily. "Get in there and do your job, Captain Watson."

As John turned to lead the way to the bedroom, Sherlock smacked one golden ass cheek with a resounding slap. John yelped in surprise and then giggled boyishly, rubbing at his ass.

"You'll pay for that," he glanced back at Sherlock and then added, "Sir."

***

Sherlock lay back on the bed, body spread wantonly open, as John slicked lube over his cock. Sherlock still wore the boots and John found the sight of him in nothing but boots incredibly arousing. He hoisted up one of Sherlock's legs, drizzling lube over the crack of Sherlock's ass and working it into the crevice.

"Still waiting for my orders, sir." John teased, lining his cock up with Sherlock's opening.

"Fuck me, Captain." Sherlock groaned, lifting his hips towards John.

John eased inside, willing himself to go slowly and draw out both their enjoyment. He buried himself to the hilt and stopped, watching Sherlock's completely debauched body open so willingly to him.

"Fast or slow, sir?" John knew he was being a cheeky bastard, but he didn't care.

Sherlock growled softly, flailing his arm until he gripped John's dog tags and yanked him down. "I want to feel you hard and fast, Captain, no playing."

"Sir, yes, sir." John gave another salute.

Sherlock's fingers slipped from the dog tag chain as John braced himself against Sherlock's thighs and slammed into him, his strokes long and deep. The room filled with the sound of slapping skin and John and Sherlock's grunts. Sherlock's hands fisted the sheets beneath them, gathering the fabric in bunches and then letting it go.

John reached out and grasped Sherlock's cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Sherlock's hand covered his and they stroked together as John felt his muscles tensing and a slow trickle of desire uncoiled itself in his belly.

"Permission to come, sir." John gasped, his voice thready as he felt himself hovering near the edge.

"Unngh!" Sherlock tried to focus and managed a weak, "Permission granted, Captain."

Three deep thrusts were all it took, John's cock spurting inside Sherlock. A moment later, Sherlock let out a strangled cry and came, his cock spasming beneath John's hand. They rode the last waves of orgasm together before John collapsed next to Sherlock on the bed, pulling Sherlock against him. Sometime in the throes of their passion, Sherlock's beret had fallen off John's hair, which now stuck out wildly in all direction. Sherlock's own hair had dried and errant curls stuck up from the slicked back style. John giggled breathily and buried his face at the nape of Sherlock's neck, inhaling his smell and pressing a kiss to his fevered skin.

Sherlock took John's slightly sticky hand in his own and snuggled closer with a satisfied sigh.

"I need to go gather the groceries," John murmured against Sherlock's skin.

"It can wait."

"Things might spoil... I'll have to go shopping again."

"It can wait," Sherlock repeated. "That's an order."

Sherlock felt John smile against his skin and then shivered when his response came. "Sir, yes, sir."

Sherlock smiled as well. Sexual Experiment #25 (Military Kink) could be considered a rousing success.


End file.
